


A Face from the Past

by comfortab1ynumb



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Movie: Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:07:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28850316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comfortab1ynumb/pseuds/comfortab1ynumb
Summary: It took Jack and Will two days to sail from Port Royal to Tortuga aboard the Interceptor. With only two men aboard such a large vessel, how did they pass the time? Will had no interest in getting familiar with someone as morally abhorrent as Jack Sparrow, but Jack was quite keen to learn about his late best friend's son. From the moment they met it felt like getting sucked into the past, a place Jack was quite happy to have left behind.
Relationships: Elizabeth Swann/Will Turner, Jack Sparrow & Elizabeth Swann, Jack Sparrow/Will Turner
Kudos: 22





	A Face from the Past

**Author's Note:**

> I was a huge pirates fan when the movies came out. I was about 8 at the time, and I'm realizing that if I'd been older I absolutely would have written fic because it was my favorite fandom in the whole wide world. Well, now I'm 22 with a lot of time to kill, so I figured I'd give it a go and pay homage to my inner 8-year-old pirate geek. This is a bit angsty, not smutty, sorry about that. Enjoy xx

They'd been underway for about an hour. The adrenaline of commandeering a Royal Navy ship had begun to fade, and Will had a hard time believing the events of the morning. The ocean breeze blew through his hair, cooling the sweat on his forehead. After frantically running around hauling sails and moving various items under Jack's command, he was exhausted. He plopped down onto the deck and regarded his companion for the first time since the morning's commotion. 

Jack Sparrow, the notorious pirate whom he had fought tooth and nail with this time yesterday, stood behind the wheel, gazing out at the horizon and...biting a fingernail. His expression was somehow determined, bemused, relaxed, and hungry all at once. Will thought that after all these years of surviving on his own he had grown fairly clever, but after seeing the way Jack duped the entire garrison he wasn't so sure. He never would have thought of a plan that brilliant. If he'd tried to rescue Elizabeth alone, he never would have made it out of the bay. He chided himself for being grateful to have the help of a pirate, but couldn't turn his gaze away. Despite his better judgement, he found himself wanting to know more about him. Jack made a minor adjustment of the wheel, then looped a rope around one of the spokes to keep it in place. He swaggered down the steps of the quarterdeck and began making minor adjustments around the ship. He glanced at Will, whose eyes were very unsubtly following his movements. 

"And just what are you staring at?"

Will blushed and looked around for something to busy himself with. 

"Nothing. Just...lost in thought I suppose."

He paced the deck, looking for a rope to tie, a sail to haul, anything to make the silence less...awkward. 

"Oy. Don't touch that." Jack yanked the small rope out of Will's hands. Without even looking down, he tied it skillfully to a small post underneath the railing.

"Well what do you want me to do, then?" 

"Nothing. This is the best part, mate. We're underway, we've got our course, now there's plenty of time to kill. Normally you'd have a whole crew to get up to all sorts of nonsense with, but seeing as it's just you and me, why don't we stick to civilized conversation. Seems like something you'd be a proponent of, eh?" 

He raised his eyebrows with a smirk. Will rolled his eyes, sitting back down on the deck. He pulled a whetstone from his pocket and began running it along the length of his sword. When it came down to having "civilized conversation" with Jack Sparrow, he was at a total loss of where to start. Luckily, Jack took his silence as a queue to get the ball rolling.

"So. Young William. What's your story, then?" He asked, clearly not the least bit interested. He went back to the rope that Will had messed with to check it once more. Will, grateful to have an excuse to fill the silence, seized on the opportunity to bring up what had been bugging him all morning. 

"When I was a lad living in England, my mother raised me by herself. When she died I came out here, looking for my father." He glanced pointedly in Jack's direction. He'd walked in front of him to fiddle with a wayward corner of sail. 

"Is that so?" His pointedly aloof tone made Will realize he was trying to avoid the topic by feigning disinterest. 

"My father? Bill Turner? At the jail it was only after you learned my name that you agreed to help. Since that's what I wanted I didn't press the matter." Jack ignored him, marching aggressively back toward the quarterdeck. Will scampered after him, still trying to gain his balance on the unsteady deck. Jack knelt by the rail, busying himself with a larger rope, tugging it one too many times to be practical. Will was exasperated now.

"I'm not a simpleton, Jack. You knew my father." 

He could only see the back of Jack's head, but he noticed his posture sag slightly as he let out a sigh. He stood to face Will, and he was surprised to see a slightly sad expression hanging on his dirt-streaked face. They were close enough that Will could smell the faintly sweet hint of rum on his breath. 

"I knew him. Probably one of the few who knew him as William Turner. Everyone else just called him Bootstrap, or Bootstrap Bill." His voice had dropped to an uncharacteristically quiet register. Jack's deep brown eyes bored into his own. Will kept glancing down, unnerved by the intensity of his gaze, and by the implications of his words.This man hadn't just known his father. They'd clearly been friends. Will struggled with a response. 

"Bootstrap?" he managed. All these years he'd pictured his father as a dashing sailor that died a valiant death to save his crewmates. He was having a hard time fitting someone named "Bootstrap" anywhere in that picture. 

Jack pushed past him toward the wheel, removing the rope and resuming control of The Interceptor. All traces of his sincere tone were quickly replaced by his usual airy, arrogant register. 

"Good man. Good pirate." He turned so that their eyes met again briefly. "I swear, you look just like him." 

Will's blood ran cold. He ignored Jack's strangely earnest comment about his appearance, filing it away into the part of his brain labeled "To brood about later." 

"It's not true." The words spilled out of his mouth, but even as he said them he realized how wrong he was. Anyone that Jack Sparrow knew as well as he clearly knew his father couldn't possibly be respectable. He balled his fists, glaring at Jack.

"He was a merchant sailor. A good respectable man who obeyed the law." He tried his best to keep his voice steady, not wanting to reveal any weakness that Jack could capitalize on later.

"He was a bloody pirate, a scalawag." Jack didn't even sound like he was trying to argue, merely stating a casual fact, like, "The sky is blue. Norrington is a self-righteous prick. I knew your father and we were pirates together." 

"My father was not a pirate." He drew his sword. If there was the slightest chance Jack was lying, he wanted to at least be able to say that he defended his father's good name with honor. 

"Put it away son. It's not worth you getting beat again," Jack sighed, not even bothering to turn around. Did he sound...bored? Fury rose in his throat.

"You didn't beat me. You ignored the rules of engagement. In a fair fight, I'd kill you." His voice had an edge of steel, projecting a confidence that he certainly didn't feel. The pirate had given him a run for his money, that was certain. 

"Then that's not much incentive for me to fight fair then, is it?" 

Before he could retort, Jack swung the wheel. The main boom crashed into Will's chest, knocking the wind out of his lungs. His sword clattered to the deck; Jack scooped it up, pointing it at him tauntingly. After the morning's work, Will's arms were already tired, and he felt an unpleasant burning in his muscles as he clung to the yardarm. 

"Now as long as you're just hanging there, pay attention. The only rules that really matter are these: what a man can do, and what a man can't do." 

Will managed to wrap his hands around a line running across the boom, but he could feel his face reddening with exertion. It took all his effort to register Jack's words.

"For instance," Jack's voice sailed over the deck and waves between them, "You can accept, that your father was a pirate and a good man, or you can't. But pirate is in your very blood boy and you'll have to square with that someday." 

Will could barely hear him over his own grunts and the blood rushing through his ears, but something about the pirate's serious tone talking about his blood made him uneasy. His legs dangled uselessly in the air, and he hoped the pirate wouldn't lecture him too long. He wasn't sure how much strength his arms had left. 

Jack seemed to have noticed Will's predicament, but was highly content to drag this out as long as possible. Will wanted to deck him right in his golden teeth. 

"Now me, for example," Jack drawled leisurely, "I can let you drown. But I can't bring this ship into Tortuga all by me onesie, savvy? So," he swung the wheel again, dumping Will ungracefully to the deck. Jack towered over him, and Will understood that regardless of how friendly he seemed, Jack would only keep him around as long as he was useful. He wasn't sure why that idea disappointed him. His own freshly sharpened sword point was leveled directly at his chest, gleamed wickedly in the glaring sunlight.

"Can you sail under the command of a pirate," Jack dexterously tossed the sword and caught it by the blade, holding the handle out for Will to grasp, "or can you not?" 

Will gently wrapped his fingers around the handle. One move and he could gut Jack right then and there, but they both knew that was absolutely not in his best interest. Once again, Jack Sparrow held all the cards. He drew the sword reluctantly back to his side.

"Tortuga?" Will muttered. He'd heard about it, but it seemed more a place of myth than an actual destination with real coordinates. 

Jack smirked, a mischievous glint flashing across his eyes. "Tortuga." 

For the fiftieth time that day, Will wondered what exactly he'd gotten himself into.


End file.
